The appalling truth of the mysterious death of 16 beggars and rubbish
collectors in Cangnan, East China's Zhejiang Province was finally uncovered by
the tenacious digging by more than 500 police officers in the past week.

The accused serial killer turned out to be a Falun Gong practitioner who
allegedly poisoned the victims in order to boost his own "efficacy."

Believing beggars and rubbish collectors "belong to the highest echelons" of
humanity, Chen Fuzhao, confessed to killing the 16 and fatally poisoning another
person between May 25 and June 26 with ratsbane. His motive, to "upgrade the
efficacy" of his "Falun Gong cultivation."

As the once prominent cult fades from the public eye, the cruelty of the
Cangnan killings reminds us of the damaging potential of its pernicious vestige.

As one of those who happened to witness Falun Gong's besieging of the
Zhongnanhai, China's political headquarters, on April 25, 1999, I had no
particular animosity against the average Falun Gong practitioner in the very
beginning. Instead, eager to make sense of their outlandish lexicons, I read
through the earliest works of their enshrined Master Li Hongzhi, which in itself
required the utmost perseverance to complete.

The well-touted and quoted tome among the secretive Falun Gong communities
was, in my secular eyes, but a juxtaposition of Buddhist sutras, rituals of
rural superstition, qi gong, and undisguised self-glorification. It was more
like megalomaniac sleep-talking than the inspired and sacred teachings of a
saint, as Master Li is often portrayed.

The real-life stories of Falun Gong practitioners convinced us that most of
them were ordinary decent people who were driven to the cult by life's
frustrations.

Master Li's bragging of being able to elevate them to a "higher world," free
of secular life's misfortunes, could not but be farcical for us common folk. But
it somehow became spiritual candy and balm for some fellows who feel abandoned
in real life.

In spite of the government-led crusade against Falun Gong, many of us had not
seen the true perniciousness of the cult until people started to be killed.

When their unsolicited messages landed in our mailboxes, we did no more than
simply block them, possibly even feeling sorry for denying them. When they
jammed public television channels with their signals, not all of us took it
seriously, thinking it was no more than a desperate stunt to get their voice
across. Everyone fears loneliness. Everyone needs listeners.

When they immolated themselves into their coveted "higher world," some of us
tended to accept their choice while lamenting the tragic deaths.

Even those instances where they killed their family members, we reserved some
sympathy for them, thinking at least in their ludicrous fantasy they were trying
to "elevate" their beloved ones to happiness.

But the homicides in Cangnan showed that Falun Gong's preaching can result in
more than suicide. If the self-elevation of Falun Gong practitioners has to be
conditional on the killing of innocent others, it constitutes a heinous threat
to public security.